The Fruits of Whoring
by famousindafuture
Summary: OTHELLO. This is another Bianca/Cassio story. How did they meet? How did it all start?
1. Chapter 1

This is another Cassio/ Bianca story. Because honestly I think- if played right- their relationship can be very interesting.

He was young, nineteen maybe, when she "came out." She was sixteen and it was widely known to the town she was now open for business. Yet she came from a family of courtesans so her whole life she had spent preparing to take on the family profession. Her sisters had already established names for themselves as wealthy, to-do women, and so she was going to be well advised and well trained. And, lucky for her, she was one of the most gorgeous women in town. Had she been an actual lady she would have had more than enough marriage proposals to last a life time. But since she was not- she now had more job offerings then most young girls did. Her mother chose the three richest clients in the town, and it was known around town that she only saw those three. Every time he saw her in the town, or at events, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She was the picture of innocence, even though she was anything but. He wanted to run his hands through her curls, or across the expanse of cleavage popping up from her dress. But he, a young soldier, could never afford her.

He was nineteen and had never had sex. The idea intrigued him, but with his soldier duties he had never had a chance to court any women. And he didn't want to spend the night with a cheap whore on the street. No he had bigger dreams. And dreams he had. Every night he would wake up to a straining erection- and every time he went to relieve it he thought of her. Her blonde hair, her perfect white teeth, her pink smile, her blue eyes, and her body. He didn't know her at all, but his body longed to know every inch of her. And so he started saving up. Even then the chances of getting to sleep with her, were slim, but he had to try.

Then one day he got the chance to actually speak with her. He was at a general's birthday party, and everyone in the town was there. The room was hot, and stuffy, and everyone was slightly drunk. He had drunk one glass- and was completely piss faced. And as when he was drunk- everything people around him did bothered him. He wanted to scream, to yell, but he decided instead to go to the pavilion. When he walked out there, there she was, tears streaming down her face. He sat there and watched her for awhile. He watched the tears stream down her tinted cheeks, a couple of curls falling out of her bun, her lips trembling. He watched her chest heave in and out with every breath. She looked up, and caught his eye. She gasped at him startled to be caught. He couldn't say anything. There was the angel from his dreams, and he was alone with her. All thoughts left his mind, and his brain couldn't form words.

"Are you here to tell the women everything?" She demanded.

"What?"

"They must have sent you, to ask if the poor _whore _fell for their words. Well go on. Tell them that you found me. You found me crying my eyes out." She spat at him. "Go tell them they won."

"I don't-" he started but was caught off guard by her standing up and advancing on him.

"Or did you think if you followed me out I would succumb to you. I wouldn't be able to help myself because, being trash, I MUST want to sleep with any man who asks." She sneered, looking him up and down as if he were a cretin.

"Look lady, I didn't even know you were out here." He yelled, raging with rejection.

"Ha likely story. So that's why you sat here watching me cry?"

"I didn't know you were here. The world doesn't revolve around you princess. Not every guy wants to sleep with community property." He knew when he said that he had gone too far. He always did when he had drunk too much. He expected her to slap him, or cry harder but instead he was shocked to see her eyes flash with something. Was it power?

"You would do anything to sleep with me." She said determinedly. And he was caught off guard. How did she know? In order to hide his true feelings, he felt himself steel against her.

"I don't like to pay for my entertainment."

"What entertainment? You have never slept with anyone, I'd bet."

"I have too!" He lied but she must have been able to read through it because she gave an evil grin.

"I bet your right hand would be willing to object to that. I bet you spend nights dreaming about women. You couldn't even get a cheap whore in bed."

"Look, just because you have issues with yourself because you take any rich man to bed"

"Isssues?" She screamed now so close to him he could feel her breath on his face, and her finger poking in his chest. "I'm not the jealous virgin here. I could-"

But he didn't even hear what she could do, because his lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Her lips were so much more plump than he could have imagined. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her hips against his. She ran her tongue over his lips and he tentatively brought his out to meet hers. Soon he was pressing her against a column of the pavilion, his hands running over her sides, while hers were lost in his hair. She lightly bit his lip and he groaned in her mouth. She ran her hand over where he was straining against his pants and then suddenly broke away. He felt the chill of the air around him, and looked at her. She gave him an evil look and lightly touched him over his pants.

"Not a virgin huh?" And with that, she gave a small chuckle, and left to go back to the party. Leaving him completely baffled.


	2. Chapter 2

She heard about his parents dying in the paper and for some reason it struck a chord with her. Perhaps she ought to go to the funeral tomorrow, she thought. A frown rose to her face, and she shook her head. Why in the world would she even entertain that thought? Just because she'd kissed the man once months ago she now felt obligated to go to his parents funeral?

The remainder of her day off passed without much fanfare, and she went on about her normal day activities. She went to the store and grabbed ribbons, and sewing material, and she spent the day fixing up and old dress. She then went into the garden and plucked up weeds for hours until she was overcome with exhaustion from the sun and from the ending of the day.

Sleep came fitfully, bringing with it the memory of Cassios mouth on hers. When she awoke, it was to find that she had literally soaked the sheets with her sweat. She felt as though she were burning alive inside of her own skin, and the feeling shamed her. Yesterday she'd felt sorry for him, and last night she'd lusted for him. Today was his parents's funeral, and she had come to the conclusion that she had no place there. It wouldn't be right for her to go when all she had done was tease and yell at the poor man.

She washed herself off, and then pulled her hair up into a delicate chiffon. She pulled on a some bloomers and started changing her bedsheets when she heard a loud noise in the living room, indicating that someone had rang her doorbell. As soon as she answered the door arms had encircled her waist, and someone's mouth was on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.

"W-who-" she stuttered, totally caught off guard.

"Please," he said, his voice choked. She would know that voice anywhere. "Please. I just need to feel something tonight." She was so confused that she didn't stop to think about her state of dress– nor did she stop to reason why he had chosen to come to _her_, of all people. There was a time and place for analyzing and cataloguing things, and this was not it.

He kissed her and rush came back. Soon their lips were bitting, and nipping at each other in a frenzied pace. Her breath rushed past her lips, and she pushed into him, seeking some sort of release for the feelings that were building. Just as quickly, his hands moved from their position on her waist to cup her breasts, both kneading and caressing with the same touch. The fire was back, building inside of her, rising to incredible heights, and making her wonder that her touch didn't scorch his smooth skin.

When she moaned and her knees started to give out, he turned her to face him, and instantly their mouths were fused together. He pulled her bloomers down and she kicked them away as her fingers fumbled with the clasp of his dress pants.

_Dress pants. Funeral attire._

The realization broke through the haze of lust, and she forced herself to pull away from him, though she was careful not to retreat too far.

"What are we doing?" she breathed through swollen lips.

"I need this," he said, his voice husky and his eyes cloudy. His hands sought her skin again, and before she could come up with any semblance of a reply, his mouth was fastened to hers.

She opened her mouth to protest, but when his hand moved around to cup her bum and give it a gentle squeeze, all that escaped her lips was his name. It came out as a moan. She was about to ask him if he could keep going when she realized that his shoulders were shaking silently. It wasn't until she felt the hot splash on her breast that she realized what was happening.

He was _crying._

Her own satisfaction was pushed to the back of her mind as she wrapped her arms around him and began whispering soothing words in his ear. How difficult this must have been for him, she wondered, if he had felt overwhelmed enough to cry in front of her? She managed to disentangle herself, all the while whispering to him, and then led him into her bedroom.

She turned down the sheets and helped him into her bed, and without giving it another thought, she crawled in beside him, enfolding him in her arms once again. He cried silently, never once letting a sound slip past his lips, until the sobs dissolved into hiccups. She smoothed his hair away from his face and whispered until her throat was raw from the effort, and when his breathing steadied in sleep, she snuggled closer to him.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning he woke to her on top of him. He thought it must have been a dream, but when he ran his hand over her arm she merely moaned and snuggled closer to him. He had almost lost his virginity last night- the day after his parents funeral. And somehow when he tried to feel bad about that- he couldn't. His parents wouldn't care if or when it happened. Here she was, in his arms. She was wearing very little, and for the first time in weeks he started to feel a little better. The more he thought about it, the bigger he got. He tried to shift, hoping she wouldn't notice. But the shifting process just woke her up. When her eyes flittered open he realized he had never actually had a conversation with the goddess in front of him. And here he was, half naked in her arms, aroused, and unable to satisfy himself without feeling like an idiot. She gave him a warm smile.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Kind of embarrassed actually." He admitted. And when her smile fell he realized that he made it sound like he choose her in a drunken/sorrow filled moment. "Not about coming here, but about…." When he trailed off he could read in her expression that she didn't believe him. She thought he regretted spending the night with a whore. That she meant nothing to him. And for some reason he needed to dispel this fear. "I feel bad that I had the ability to spend my first time with the person I've been dreaming about for weeks, but other circumstances made me… incapable." He said honestly.

"So you are a virgin?" She asked teasingly and he turned bright red. He started to try to collect his clothes in embarrassment when she put her hand on his arm. "Hey, that's not a bad thing… I've never… you know?"

He looked at her in confusion and could see a blush spreading on her cheeks. But he wasn't following.

"I've never came."

He continued to look at her in confusion. "I've never orgasmed." She finally spit out. And he laughed when he realized what she was saying. "Wait really."

"The acts I do, aren't really about me. You know?" She said. "It's my body, but it's not really if that makes any sense. I've never lusted after anybody." She said quietly.

"Not even after me?" He asked. Her cheeks once again filled with warmth and he decided he liked it. "Well how about this. We help each other out?"

She looked up at him in confusion.

"We each get what we want." He stated. And then when she continued to look at him blankly he realized he was going about this the wrong way. So he grabbed her and kissed her. The magic, the spark, the need was still there even in the morning light. He shyly reached for her breast , trailing a finger around the mound when she grabbed his hand and forced him to grab it all. It was soft in his hand and he moaned. Curious he stopped kissing her to look at it. The air had made her nipple grow hard, and he curiously pinched it. At that moment she moaned loud and looked at him with a dazed expression. Then he started rubbing the left one with his hand while his mouth inched closer to the right one. He licked her nipple. And she gasped. He pulled her onto his lap and started kissing, and sucking and biting her nipple. She was in such a state of ecstasy that she was grinding on his lap, pressing against his budge that couldn't get any bigger.

That night they both gave each other what they needed.


End file.
